


double tap it

by strawberrv



Series: hot libra on libra action! [1]
Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Double Dating, Explicit Consent, Getting to Know Each Other, Internet Famous, M/M, Shyness, Social Media, Strangers to Lovers, Twitter, but yy doesnt know it :), hendery interrogating yy for 8k lmao, i said what i said, lol hen wishes, manic pixie eboy hendery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-23
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2020-03-10 02:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18929563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberrv/pseuds/strawberrv
Summary: liu yangyang's life is not exciting. he goes to classes, keeps up with his trig assignments, stays out of the dorm when sicheng has yuta over, and, of course, he follows hendery @gothiquenanhai99 on twitter.hendery's life is plenty exciting. he travels, does photoshoots, writes mysterious captions on his selfies, and looks incredible while doing it. hendery's life is so exciting, in fact, that it might just spill over into yangyang's.





	double tap it

**Author's Note:**

> hello again.. :) tis me, local wayv stan  
> i've been working on this fic for the last month !! ah !!!!! i've never written anything this long, and it is also my Great Return to the smut genre lmao... the way i could not type the word "asshole" for days. anyway !
> 
> so henyang is such an underrated pairing.. they have no porn written about them on here (in english) ! how is that even possible ! so i took it upon myself to pioneer the genre :) henyang rise !! hot libra on libra action !!  
> i've also never set a fic in china before and i did my very very best to research and be accurate but blease lmk if u spot anything weird/wrong !! esp the actual chinese characters.. rip  
> not sure if i like how the characterization turned out but like.. they have no variety content yet we want rainbow v s2!!  
> anyway thank u for checking this out !! here is a [ playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/user/kimjognog/playlist/2qATGSmPlrnS3xlk3kcofb?si=QFzm76KmTbiUi6nPkX_RTw) for this fic !

**[henDUHry] Tweeted:**  
开花 <3  
_http://twitter.com/gothiquenanhai99/status/43742893…_

 

yangyang blinks, rubbing the corners of his eyes with the heel of one hand and using the other to clumsily tap the notification. the twitter logo blooms under his thumb and he squints at the harsh blue light, rolling himself onto his side with an elbow.

the tweet loads in the next second and yangyang automatically moves his thumb to the tiny heart, phone jumping in his hand as he lights it up pink. embarrassingly, he holds his breath a little before he glances up to open the image file.

fuck.

hendery’s back on his post-spring springtime bullshit. it’s almost june and yet he’s wearing a pink sleeveless hoodie over a long-sleeved pink and white wide-striped shirt. it’s a profile shot, so yangyang can’t see if he has two earrings in, but he’s willing to bet not, since the one facing the camera is a black feathered one that kind of screams asymmetrical. he’s wearing makeup, as usual, and it’s also been appropriately theme-matched, with blush over the tip of his nose and nowhere else, broody brows probably filled in a shade too dark, and little eyeliner-stamped cherry blossoms around the corners of his eyes.

yangyang sighs, saving the picture to his phone; the other one is just of a fountain in front of a building with a pink filter over it. and the caption — _bloom <3_

ugh. UGH. it’s so achingly cute yet mysterious and so typically hendery that yangyang kicks his blankets off to flop around on his mattress for a minute.

sufficiently flopped, he sits up, stretching his arms over his head and glancing over to find sicheng’s bed already empty. he pouts; sicheng’s been out of their dorm more than in it lately, it seems, but at least yangyang can get ready for lecture while blasting his playlist.

he feels around his tangled sheets to find his phone, resisting the urge to unlock it and look at hendery’s selfies again once located.

right, that’s a thing.

so, yangyang isn’t an eboy fucker, ok? he’s a huang hendery fucker. and huang hendery just so happens to occupy his time by posting aesthetic selfies and much-too-short video clips of him dancing to various bubblegum pop songs, while occasionally endorsing makeup and clothing brands.

so, there’s a difference.

or so he tells himself.

yangyang’s been following hendery for about a year now, and he actually owes the initial discovery to twitter’s usually-shoddy recommendation algorithm. the account had shown up in the random three he gets shown every time he visits someone’s profile (he was on sicheng’s, ogling the japanese exchange student he’d been posting selfies with lately) and at the time hendery’s display name had been **dream-boy*** and his display picture was, of course, himself. and yangyang… was weak and already feeling a certain way from looking at sicheng’s boy toy, and what can he say! he was enticed by the five pixels of hendery’s dp (black and white, he sensed a jawline).

his bio had said, _*may in fact not be_ your _dream boy, but probably someone’s :p_

which was, ok, cute and everything, but yangyang was glued to the pinned tweet on his profile; two selfies of him in a booth at some upscale restaurant. the first was of him looking quite serious, red-tinted light catching his cheekbones, red bomber jacket falling open to show some shoulder. in the other he was smiling; a wide, toothy grin, almost manic with how it lit up his eyes, and that one was a little blurry.

yangyang was entranced. he doesn’t even remember hitting follow.

it’s not like he’s _obsessed,_ ok, he’s just — impulsive, and… half in the closet at a big university. (he’d be lying if he said he didn’t get a gay vibe.) and he’s not one of the creepy people in hendery’s replies asking for nudes, either, it’s just… he couldn’t help but become endeared, kind of.

hendery seems really sweet, through the pieces of himself he shares online, and yangyang feels sort of connected, since they’re both in china, both presumably using vpns to actually _be_ on twitter. and hendery just seems so… quietly confident, like, putting the cat-ear tiktoks aside, he always seems so natural in his environment, like he knows he’s supposed to be there. yangyang’s never felt like that.

and, there’s also the thing where hendery’s really, insanely hot. that thing.

❤

yangyang rests his head on the edge of the podium, stack of papers gripped in his right hand.

foreign language club is usually scarce as it is, but this must be a record. he knows the end of semester creep has begun, so he’ll only be a _little_ passive aggressive next week when he tells the deserters how much he missed them.

he’s about to give up the ghost and head over to the cafe when, about 15 minutes past their usual start time, nakamoto yuta saunters in with a mocha frap in one hand, and sicheng in the other.

yangyang blinks, not unhappy with this development but… confused? maybe a little frightened? yuta’s kind of been this unknowable but extremely handsome _presence_ in yangyang’s life since he and sicheng started dating. like, he’s heard him fuck, but they’ve never shaken hands? what stage of friendship is that? not to mention he’s been to all of one club meeting, a month ago, and left in the middle on the grounds of yangyang being boring.

“hi, yangyang!” yuta says brightly, followed by a noncommittal “hey,” from sicheng. 

yangyang raises a hand in greeting, blushing a little (yuta is handsome as ever), but he’s being talked at before he can even manage to squeak out a hello.

“so, i came here to ask you a question,” yuta starts, evidently having greatly improved his mandarin since the last time they talked (it was at a party, yangyang said hello and yuta called him a cute fish girl and bowed deeply).

“you’re from the area, right?”

“i… yes,” yangyang says, because he is, though he’s wary of where this is going. he shuffles his feet behind the podium.

“well my friend is in town for a few days, and _this_ one —” he rolls his eyes toward sicheng and nudges him, like they’ve been married for fifty years “— never goes out. so i’m looking for restaurants, clubs, uh anything… uh, what’s that word?” he pulls on sicheng’s sleeve.

“recreational,” sicheng rumbles, looking at his phone.

“right! recreational. fun places!” he smiles a big white smile, with flat white teeth, that scrunches up his eyes. yangyang blinks. the stack of papers slips from his fingers.

he bends to gather them with nervous hands, while trying to respond, “uh, sure? i probably know places. i’ll tell… sicheng, i guess? unless you wanna give me your—”

“thanks a bunch!! i owe you one! good luck with the languages!”

he sounds further away with each word, and by the time yangyang is standing up again he and sicheng are out the door.

huh.

 

sicheng does actually just give yuta’s number to yangyang, saying he’ll forget to relay the information if yangyang gives it to him verbally.

after his last class on friday, yangyang goes through all his take-out menus, deciding which places he thinks are superior and tourism-worthy, while trying to remember the name of that one club lucas dragged him out to ( _year of the dragon._ he really should’ve remembered since _he_ was fucking born in the year of the dragon).

it’s quick work, and he shoots off a text to yuta in no time, making sure he says that it’s him. within seconds his phone buzzes in his hand.

**yuta**  
_< 3333333333333 thank you!!!!!!!!!! liu yangyang!!_

yangyang shudders, disturbed by the fact that yuta knows his full name. he doesn’t know what to do with that otherwise, though, so he just tosses his phone onto his bed, only to have it buzz again a second later.

 **[henDUHry] Tweeted:**  
回家  
_http://twitter.com/gothiquenanhai99/status/3872797…_

 _going home?_ an oddly sentimental caption for hendery, though appropriately mysterious. yangyang raises an eyebrow and rolls onto his bed, tapping the notification.

there are two pictures, one of hendery with a face mask on and earbuds in, though yangyang can still tell he’s smiling, and one of the back of a plane ticket. ah, he must be putting a pause on all the crazy photoshoots he’s had lately. to yangyang’s knowledge he’s been all over china these last few months, modeling for brands and going to festivals nonstop.

yangyang sighs, imagining the surely fun, wild, and aesthetically pleasing life hendery must lead, and taps the like button.

❤

yuta bursts into their dorm room the next afternoon, throwing himself on top of sicheng, who groans and mumbles something incomprehensible.

it’s saturday, and neither of them have class, but sicheng likes to catch up on sleep on the weekends. yangyang is taking the time to study, for once, but feels his efforts might be coming to an abrupt halt as he watches yuta wiggle around on sicheng’s bed. sicheng mumbles something again and yuta hisses back in japanese and wiggles some more, bouncing back to his feet after a second. he turns his attention to sicheng’s closet.

yangyang unfreezes himself from his position across the room, cross-legged on top of his sheets, laptop in front of him.

“uh, hi,” he says, already feeling the third-wheel awkwardness.

“hello!!” yuta sings, pulling down all of sicheng’s grey turtlenecks and piling them on the floor.

“sorry for the intrusion, but my darling guanheng is in town, finally! and we need to match when we go out with him tonight,” he says, nudging sicheng’s blanketed form with his shoe (a very trend-aware ankle boot), to which sicheng replies “yes… match… you’re a fashion icon, babe.”

yuta grins brightly and whitely at that, continuing his closet expedition.

yangyang hums in acknowledgement, zoning out completely once he gets back to his trig assignment, and by the time he finishes yuta has roused sicheng completely, found an outfit for him, and is now vigorously typing something on his phone in the middle of the room. sicheng is sadly looking at his pile of turtlenecks.

yuta sighs, “we might as well meet him at his place now, he says he’s bored and will buy us lunch. so that means we’ll have to —” he abruptly switches to japanese, a contemplative hand on his chin.

“— right, so we’ll come back here around five to change and get ready, ok?” he finishes in mandarin. sicheng nods, bending down to pick a sweater up only to be foiled by yuta catching his wrist and spinning him around for a kiss.

yangyang shakes his head, wondering how sicheng managed to get wrapped up with yuta so intensely.

he coughs once the kiss has evolved a bit and says, “alright, well have fun! and say hi to, uh, guanheng? for me.”

to yangyang’s confusion, yuta bursts out laughing at that, giggling into sicheng's chest.

“oh — that’s not, we don’t actually — his actual name’s hendery.”

yangyang’s lungs seize up.

“what?” he coughs out, hand still over his keyboard.

“yeah, weird, right? he’s from macau, i don’t know. anyway byeeee!” and they’re gone, door shut behind them.

ok.

ok!

yangyang licks his lips, suddenly cotton-mouthed.

ok.

like — _mindfuck!!!_ but, _ok??_

it takes yangyang about two minutes to move again, and another three to decide that it’s just a coincidence.

it’s not the same hendery. it literally can’t be. yangyang isn’t — he doesn’t have one of _those_ lives, where crazy or weird or miraculous things happen. he runs the foreign language club, hides his sexuality from his parents, and eats sandwiches! he doesn’t exist on the same _plane_ as huang hendery.

he doesn’t, like, _know_ people, even through other people. he’s the exception to the six degrees of separation rule. it would take, like, a hundred degrees to get to kevin bacon through him.

so he shakes it off, and goes over the unit for trig again, resisting the urge to text yuta for further inquiry.

as the universe would have it, though, his phone buzzes about an hour later, vibrating ominously into his thigh.

reluctantly, he picks it up.

 **[henDUHry] Tweeted:**  
大同 哈哈哈。995  
_http://twitter.com/gothiquenanhai99/status/53283472…_

okokokokokokokokokokok!

 _dàtóng?_ as in. the gay slang? meaning gay college students? what the fuck?

yangyang opens twitter with shaking hands, reasoning that he could be talking about the city of the same name.

he’s not talking about the city.

huang hendery literally tweeted with his own two hands a relatively niche piece of gay slang. and to prove it, two pictures.

the first, of course, of himself, looking a little worn out but with his hair styled nicely and eyeliner on.

the second, of nakamoto fucking yuta kissing someone who is undoubtedly sicheng, though his face is obscured. taken in one of the cafes yangyang himself recommended to yuta.

ok!

yangyang gives himself exactly twenty minutes to have a mental breakdown, and then decides he has to prepare. because it’s 3:30 now and yuta and sicheng and _probably_ huang hendery himself are coming back to _this_ dorm room in an hour and a half.

he abandons trig completely, jumping in the shower and changing into something a little more respectable than the werner pajamas he got in munich.

he paces the small dorm room, chewing on his nails with periodic fits of self-diagnosed jimmy legs (he lies on his back and kicks his legs to let the anxiety demons out). hendery’s twitter is quiet now, but that doesn’t stop yangyang from checking it every few minutes, refreshing his profile and then taking a second to gape at the picture of yuta and sicheng again.

it feels both like no time at all has passed and like yangyang has lived through two centuries when he hears an array of footsteps approaching the room. he jumps onto his bed, fumbling his phone and arranging himself in what he hopes is something casual that says _i’ve never heard of huang hendery before today,_ but also radiates the cool bisexual vibe. just in case.

a key scrapes the lock to the side and the door swings open, revealing sicheng, looking typically calm, yuta, looking typically manic, and — 

yeah.

yup.

yes.

that’s definitely huang fucking hendery! in yangyang’s dorm room! what the fuck!

he’s wearing a pink graphic tee (cool), tucked into a pair of black jeans (very cool) with a fabric belt that ties at his side instead of buckling (so cool. yangyang is dying). his hair and makeup are in the same impeccable state they were on twitter.

yuta is saying something in japanese over his shoulder to hendery, who is looking curiously around the room, until his gaze lands on yangyang. he blinks.

“oh, hi! you must be the roommate they were telling me about! yangyang, right?”

yuta breezes between them and out the door again, evidently to go to the bathroom and change, judging from the hefty looking mini-duffle in his hands.

“yes,” yangyang says, absolutely frozen in his semi-reclined position on his bed.

hendery nods, smiling a little.

“that’s cool! hey, thanks for the recommendations, yuta told me he asked you.”

yangyang clears his throat, nodding.

“yeah, that was me! glad i could help out, dude.”

 _ugh._ dude? who is he? even sicheng looks up from his phone to give him a strange look.

he takes a breath and unlocks his phone, silently choking when hendery’s twitter profile loads immediately.

he hurriedly closes it and opens a blank baidu search page, face burning. he sees hendery rocking back on his heels a little in his periphery, and sicheng seems to be in a similar neutral position.

“are you coming with us?” hendery suddenly inquires. yangyang looks up, bewildered to find hendery’s dark eyes focused on him and… hopeful? either that or yangyang is making shit up, which is likely.

“oh — ah, no i don’t think so…” he says, finding himself missing yuta’s presence in a big way. he swallows.

as if reading his thoughts, however, yuta opens the door in the next moment, in a silk white shirt and a skirt-pants combo that somehow works with his lace-up boots. his hair also looks shinier.

“ok! are we ready? dinner and then clubs?”

he takes out his phone, leaning back against sicheng’s chest.

“actually, i was just asking yangyang if he’s coming along…? since he went to the trouble of finding the places we’re even going, you know?” he gestures in yangyang’s direction with one hand, the other on his hip.

yangyang raises his eyebrows, locking his phone.

“oh, don’t feel obligated because of that, i know i wasn’t invited in the first—”

“you know, that’s not a bad idea,” yuta cuts him off, looking contemplative.

“you know the dialect around here, right? so you could help hendery _talk_ to people!”

the way he says _talk_ makes yangyang think he means flirt. his stomach twists.

hendery scoffs while yuta eyes yangyang from across the room.

“your outfit isn’t half-bad; i wouldn’t mind being seen in public with you. ok! you’re coming!”

well.

❤

the restaurant is indeed one of the ones yangyang recommended, though the priciest of them. he winces as he opens the menu, having only been here once before with a study group where someone else paid. yuta and sicheng sit opposite him, yuta snuggled into sicheng’s side while loudly asking him to explain what each item on the menu is. hendery sits beside him, thumbing down his own list of luxurious dishes with his tongue tucked in the corner of his mouth.

yangyang sips his water; though he recently turned of drinking age he still can’t really stomach the taste of, nor does he have the tolerance for alcohol on a casual night. he does his best not to choke when he feels hendery lean into him.

“thanks for tagging along, by the way. i don’t know if i could’ve survived another few hours with the lovebirds.”

yangyang tries to ignore his heart sinking. so hendery hadn’t invited him along because of an instant inexplicable attraction? fair, but he had been hoping.

he laughs nervously, “yeah, i know what you mean.”

hendery leans back, but scoots his chair a little closer, moving his menu with him.

“so, since you’re the local, what do you recommend?” he props his chin on his hand, smiling at yangyang in a way that has him looking down immediately.

he coughs a little and hums, looking at the various food items.

“well, the snake soup is good if you’re into that kind of thing… um… there’s duck, of course…”

hendery sighs airily and says, “well what are you having? i’ll just get that, since your taste hasn’t guided me astray yet today.”

yangyang laughs nervously _again,_ taking an unnecessary sip of water.

“i’m probably just gonna get the soup dumplings, actually…”

“really? isn’t that just an appetizer, though?” hendery frowns for a moment, until a knowing smile overtakes his face.

“you know i’m paying, right? get whatever you want,” he says lowly, nudging yangyang’s shoulder.

“oh man, you don’t have to do that, i’m really not that hungry.”

hendery rolls his eyes, “i insist; _really_ i don’t mind. plus you’re still a growing boy, right?” he giggles and yangyang feels himself go red. now that he thinks of it, though, of course hendery isn’t hurting for money, not with that adidas deal he got in november.

“uh, ok… then i’ll probably get the milk chicken.”

hendery grins and says, “perfect. me too!”

the night carries on like that, with yuta pulling away from sicheng in brief but impressive bouts of self-discipline to chat with hendery, sicheng eating quietly, and hendery trying to drag yangyang into conversation every few minutes.

“so, yuta said you’re from the area? why aren’t you living at home, then?”

yangyang chews his lip, pushing the remainder of his milk chicken around on his plate. it’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to hendery — of course he does, it’s just that he’s sure he’ll embarrass himself at any moment, and he’s been debating with himself whether to tell hendery about the twitter thing or not since they left.

“ah… yeah, i grew up here, but my family moved to germany for a few years while i was in high school, and they decided to stay behind when i got into university. so, yeah,” he nibbles on the ends of his chopsticks, leg bouncing under the table. hendery hums in understanding, and yuta even looks vaguely interested.

“yeah, he’s fluent in german you know, he’s president of the language club at school,” sicheng brings up, low voice carrying across the table. yangyang looks at him curiously; he wasn’t aware sicheng paid enough attention to know.

hendery gasps dramatically, eyes wide, and he lightly pushes yangyang’s shoulder.

“no way, that’s so cool! i only know japanese from anime and those court dramas. yuta always makes fun of my vocabulary,” he shoots a glare across the table, before he and yuta both break into giggles.

“seriously, though, could you say something in german? i’m really interested.” he says once the laughter dies down, absently stirring his drink with one hand. and there’s that smile again; his dark eyes glint in the low lighting and yangyang’s reminded of that pinned tweet he saw so long ago.

“ah, i don’t know...” yangyang rubs the back of his neck, shoulders bunching in embarrassment.

“oh, come on, _please,_ i’ll buy you drinks at the club,” hendery pouts, and yangyang flushes, wiping his palms off on his jeans.

“ok, uh… _wie war dein essen?”_

yuta and sicheng give polite little _ooh_ s and hendery grins, completely delighted, it seems.

“what does that mean?” he asks immediately.

“oh, uh, i asked how your meal was.”

“aw, you’re so cute!”

yangyang sputters for a second before opting to change the subject.

“so, uh, what about you, you’re from macau, originally?”

hendery nods, chewing on his straw.

“yeah, i grew up there and lived with my older sister until recently… i started getting modelling deals? i’m kind of a… social media person, i guess you could say. i basically built up a brand for myself until companies took notice. anyway, the way things have gone i tend to travel a lot, so i just got an apartment here, since it’s more central to the big cities.” 

he takes a sip.

yangyang does his best not to gape.

“you — you live _here?_ like in town?”

“yup, not too far from your campus, actually.”

yangyang says, “huh,” but internally he’s freaking out, just a little. to think, hendery’s been living in the same city as him, probably just a few miles away, and he never knew.

“well!” yuta claps suddenly, sitting up and dropping his napkin on the table.

“this is _riveting,_ but i’m ready to dance now!”

hendery just chuckles, flagging down the waitress for the check.

❤

the club is loud, though not as loud as it had been with lucas screaming in his ear. the four of them head almost immediately to the dance floor, yuta pausing for shots, and it’s fun.

without the talking component, he and hendery really get along swimmingly. they know a lot of the same songs, and it’s not even awkward when yuta and sicheng inevitably start grinding on each other!

yangyang’s always liked dancing, just in his room, really, to any pop that’s on the radio, and hendery easily follows him into random and goofy little move combinations. 

eventually he’s hanging off of yangyang’s shoulder, borderline vogueing to the beat of the music, and yangyang follows him, striking different poses with every downbeat. facing each other again, hendery’s eyes are alight, and yangyang can’t help grinning back, letting his hands be taken when hendery decides he wants to shimmy.

“wow, you two are having fun!” yuta yells over the noise. sicheng is tugging on his arm, presumably to get him back to performing some sort of very sensual slither on him.

yangyang looks down, clamming up a little. he sees hendery roll his eyes, flipping his pinky up at yuta. before he knows it, yangyang is being dragged out of the crowd, over to the bar. hendery asks for two waters.

“you aren’t drinking either?” yangyang asks.

“nah, i like sipping on the fruity stuff but the blackout-drunk thing isn’t really my scene.”

yangyang nods in understanding. he looks down, the thought he’s been trying to avoid all night suddenly bubbling to the surface. he wrings his hands.

“hey, um, i wanted to tell you something.”

hendery raises his eyebrows, cracking open one of the water bottles and handing it off. yangyang takes it gratefully.

“and what could that be, mysterious yangyang?” he asks, leaning against the bar with his ankles crossed.

“hah, um, well… i just wanted to be honest.... i kind of… know you from twitter. like, i’ve followed you for awhile. ah, sorry, i don’t wanna sound creepy, but, i mean, i only knew for _sure_ sure once you showed up at my dorm. uh. yeah.” he gulps down some water.

hendery blinks, then looks out over the club, contemplative.

“that… makes a lot of sense. word.”

“yeah… sorry i didn’t tell you sooner. are you, like...freaked out? ‘cause i can get a taxi home and—”

hendery’s eyes go wide, and he catches yangyang’s wrists in his hands.

“whoa, no, of course i don’t want you to go home!! you’re fun and cute! it really doesn’t bother me, honestly. like, i just post selfies and brand deals on there, it’s not like you’ve seen my dick.”

yangyang sighs in relief, until hendery leans close and says lowly, “ _yet,”_ then immediately rocks back on his heels, cackling.

yangyang does his best to smile through his blush. 

 

about an hour later they’re all pretty much running out of steam for dancing. well, excluding yuta, who seems to be running on vodka cranberries like diesel fuel. sicheng is basically holding his entire weight, while trying to avoid grabby hands and half-listening to what are surely obscene comments in slurred japanese.

“uh, i think i better take him home,” he says, looking somewhat apologetic.

“aw, you’re such a good boyfriend, sicheng,” hendery coos, to which yuta grins and tries to grab sicheng’s nose.

“however, he is my best friend so i’m obligated to tell you i’ll fuck your shit if you hurt him.”

sicheng, to yangyang’s surprise, looks honest-to-god cowed.

“well, get him home safe! i’ll see you guys tomorrow, probably.” hendery continues airily. 

sicheng performs a cute mock-salute and begins hauling yuta over to the bar.

hendery turns to yangyang, expression unreadable.

“do you wanna get ramen?”

 

the convenience store that yangyang tends to frequent (they have the rare xxxtra hot chips he likes, plus a few random german snacks that make him nostalgic) is only a couple blocks away, so they walk instead of hailing a taxi. it’s a little chilly, but not too bad. also quiet, but not uncomfortable. it’s definitely the most relaxed yangyang has felt around hendery so far.

once inside, yangyang gets them two ramen meals, pouring the hot water carefully and splitting chopsticks with one hand, which hendery is very impressed by.

“it’s been forever since i’ve eaten at a convenience store like this,” he remarks as they make their way to the tables outside. he carries a couple of paper cups with ice and a can of soda for them to share, while yangyang walks very carefully so as not to spill their ramen.

“ah, yeah, i do it a lot — university life, i guess.”

they settle in at a table, eating in silence for a few minutes. hendery expertly switches between bites of noodles and sips of broth, with intermittent soda breaks; yangyang respects that. the soup warms them from inside out.

once only the broth and cups of soda are left, hendery turns to face yangyang.

“i have something i bet you don’t know from my twitter,” he says playfully.

yangyang finishes chewing before he responds, “really? i mean… there are probably a lot of things i don’t—”

“right, but i want you to know this one.” he interrupts, impatient.

“ok,” yangyang squeaks.

hendery fiddles with his paper cup, lifting up the edge with his thumbnail.

“have you ever seen me post pictures with anyone? like... romantic ones, or whatever.”

yangyang frowns, thinking back to the photos he's seen, which are mostly selfies.

“um… no, i guess not? is there… a reason for that?”

“i’m actually gay.”

he looks into yangyang’s eyes when he says it, gaze steady, drink momentarily forgotten.

“oh? oh,” yangyang says, like an idiot.

“that’s… cool! yeah, i mean… yeah!” anyone else feel like banging their head on the table in front of the hottest boy ever? just yangyang?

hendery keeps looking at him, looking and looking. a short gust of wind blows strands of black hair in front of his eyes.

“yeah,” he drawls, dragging his attention back to the cup, shivering a little.

“i know i’m not out online and that’s like, ‘perpetuating a narrative of shame’ or whatever the fuck, but it’s not like i’m some repressed twunk making myself kiss girls on the weekends and cutting when monday rolls around,” he scoffs, jostling the ice around.

“i just prefer my private life… private.” 

he says this slowly, looking up through his lashes at yangyang.

“no, yeah, that totally makes sense. i mean, i can’t even imagine what it’s like to have all these followers asking about your personal life all the time… oh, and i would totally _never_ like, out you or anything, like seriously i’d rather die that’s so fucked.”

yangyang tries to pair that with a trustworthy looking smile, but he really thinks he probably looks creepy. curse his enthusiastic smiling muscles.

hendery takes another gulp of his soda and hums, smiling and placing his hand deliberately on top of yangyang’s.

“um—”

“so what about you?” he asks, propping his chin on the heel of his other hand and blinking curiously. his lips and nose are reddened from the cold, teeth shining in the light from the store.

“...what about me?” yangyang squeaks, again. he has to stop, this mouse thing isn’t cute.

hendery giggles, licking his lips when another gust of wind presumably dries them out.

“yes, you! you’re all, like, cute and handsome and multilingual, but i didn’t see any doting girlfriend hanging off you tonight,” he pouts, looking genuinely upset at the thought. yangyang’s pretty sure he’s the color of the ramen broth by now, but he just laughs nervously, hoping it seems like it’s from the cold.

“no, no, uh, university keeps me pretty busy — clubs and stuff, you know,”

hendery’s hand tightens almost imperceptibly on yangyang’s.

“right, of course,” he retracts his hand, reaching into his cup to fish out the lemon slice sitting on the ice. 

to yangyang’s arousal and horror, he eats the fruit in one bite, tossing the peel behind him and chewing solemnly, near expressionless.

yangyang, awestruck, watches hendery swallow, suction the rest from his teeth with an obscenely flexible tongue, and swing one leg over the bench to fully face him again.

“are you gay, though?”

yangyang jumps, coughing a little, as if he were the one who had just eaten a _fucking_ lemon.

“oh! um, yes. well, i mean technically bisexual…? if that? makes a difference. but uh, yes! men are hot, so!”

god. if hendery doesn’t kill him by the end of the night yangyang _will_ do it himself.

hendery smiles his widest smile yet (which is only slightly terrifying! completely unsurprisingly, yangyang finds it mostly hot! he kind of wants hendery to unhinge his jaw and eat him? like, what?) and leans forward.

“bingo! right answer and extra credit to boot. is it ok if i kiss you now?”

yangyang, positively on fire with nervous energy, nods vigorously.

hendery giggles again, bringing a surprisingly warm hand up to steady his head.

it’s dumb. like it’s certifiably stupid how good at kissing hendery is. he just presses their lips together at first, but then it’s actual kissing, like, with the muscles in their lips and stuff.

hendery laces his fingers through yangyang’s hair, tilting his head so their noses brush. his lips are soft, if textured, like he bites them a lot, and lemony fresh, citrus zinging between their mouths. his other hand lands on yangyang’s knee, slipping up his thigh. when he pulls away he drags his teeth over yangyang’s lower lip, and yangyang can’t help the little helpless exhale that ghosts out of him. hendery’s hand is still on his thigh.

hendery leans back, lips red and looking pleased.

“good?” he asks, preening.

“um. fuck. yeah? yes? holy fuck.”

hendery giggles, stretching his arms over his head as he stands up from the bench.

“since your roommate has probably got his hands full with yuta at your dorm, wanna go back to mine?”

yangyang blinks, having forgotten that hendery actually lives in town.

“oh, sure! yeah, that sounds nice.”

hendery offers his hand, and yangyang is reminded of a point-of-view tiktok he posted two months ago. he blushes, standing with hendery’s help.

“let’s do it, then, baby, i know the law!”

❤

hendery’s apartment is… weird. like, extremely freaky. first of all, it’s really fucking dark. all the curtains are drawn (which — like, curtains? what decade are they in?) and all the light comes from various neon signs scattered around the walls that say things like _xoxo_ and _merci beaucoup_ in pink and red. there’s a kitchen to the left; clean from what yangyang can tell, and two doors opposite each other across the living room. the one to the left is cracked ajar, a miserable tune played on acoustic guitar floating out, to which hendery rolls his eyes.

“sorry, that’s just my roommate, he’s like in a band or something. don’t worry, though, my room is soundproof,” he says with a wry grin, and yangyang’s mouth dries out.

soundproof or not, yangyang couldn’t tell you, but it’s certainly… hendery. and not the one yangyang’s been following on twitter since last april, but the one who’s holding his hand, here, now.

there are even more neon signs in here, a little more demanding of attention, though — _i like cock_ and _live nude boys_ with an arrow pointing in the direction of hendery’s bed, to name a couple.

hendery lets go of his hand and spins himself into the center of the room.

“welcome, yangyang who lives in a university dorm room, to a real bedroom!” he laughs and yangyang does too, putting his hands in his pockets and taking in the rest of the room’s features.

the walls are plain white, but covered with various posters and a cat calendar in the corner. a couple bundles of bamboo sit on the windowsill, and there’s a full-length mirror opposite the wardrobe, unseen from the bed.

“it’s… cool. really cool.”

hendery skips back over and undoes the knot in his fabric belt, tossing it aside. 

“yeah? got the yangyang stamp of approval?”

yangyang nods, and there’s a bit of a silence. hendery coaxes his hands out of his pockets and holds them.

“so. i’m giving you a final get out of jail free card here.” he runs his thumbs over yangyang’s knuckles.

“i have, uh, some modicum of fame, which you’re aware of, and… if that’s the only reason you’re here? don’t stay. if you feel like you have to do this or i’ll kick you out and drag you on twitter? don’t stay. i _personally_ don’t care if you just think i’m hot — the idea of fucking someone you’ve seen online is novel, or whatever, but if you’re gonna be creepy about it? don’t stay. i, uh… what i’m trying to say is, basically,”

yangyang wants to interrupt but bites his tongue.

“i’m a pretty good judge of character, and i _think_ you’re into it, in a normal kind of way, but unfortunately i’m not the be all and end all of what other people are feeling. ridiculous, i know. so… if there’s anything… knocking around in that head of yours. tell me?”

yangyang blinks.

“i. think your bamboo is dying.”

hendery also blinks. he looks behind him at the plants.

he bursts out laughing.

yangyang, relieved, endeared, laughs too, and waits a moment before speaking again.

“for real, though… i really like you. i mean, the _you_ i’ve gotten to know tonight. i want this if you do.” he swallows, hoping hendery can read his sincerity.

arms loop around his neck and he can feel warm breath on his skin.

“bingo,” hendery says softly, muffled by fabric.

“right answer again.” he kisses yangyang’s neck, softly.

“extra credit to boot.” he touches yangyang’s hair, softly.

then he pulls away, smiling small, only to rock forward again.

“know what comes next?”

yangyang tugs on the front of his shirt.

“i _believe_ you ask if you can kiss me. and then i say yes. and then you kiss me. i’ve been studying, you know,” he wets his lips, for once feeling confident talking to hendery.

“hmmm,” hendery says, shifting on his feet, chewing on his lower lip as if in great deliberation.

then he looks up, eyes alight.

“bingo.”

they’re on the bed in a whirlwind of motion, hendery tugging him down until they’re fully horizontal, kissing with surprising restraint.

when they come up for air, yangyang can hardly do anything but look at him, black hair mussed and falling over his forehead. hendery watches yangyang watch him, blinking his dark eyes and smiling a small, kittenish smile, enjoying being enjoyed. he’s positively scrumptious looking, and yangyang’s stomach churns when he squirms a little, making his shirt ride up his stomach.

hendery reaches for yangyang’s waist, hands sliding down to pull on his belt loops.

“you like me,” he says, kind of teasing and kind of serious. it’s all so intense, yangyang can hardly find his sense enough to nod in agreement, though hendery wasn’t asking.

“well then scroll down and double tap it, babe.”

yangyang wastes no time in undoing the button on his pants, hands shaking a little with nerves. he also pulls his t-shirt over his head, to which hendery bites his lip and yangyang blushes.

he leans down, carefully balancing on one elbow to kiss him again.

hendery whines under him, wiggling around and unsubtly canting his hips upward, even though yangyang is still too far above for it to have any effect. smooth fingers slide up yangyang’s waist, running over his ribcage, tracing the line of his back.

hendery tilts his head to the side, panting a little, so yangyang’s lips fall on jaw and cheek.

“you’re sooooo fuckable, you know, i was in sympathy pain thinking about you not getting laid on the regular. it’s a crime,” he sighs, hands skimming back down his hips and then over his ass, squeezing.

yangyang shivers, focusing on teasing a hickey into the skin just below hendery’s jaw.

hendery lets him, continuing to grope and tug and tease around the waistband of his jeans. his palms are like intoxicants themselves, seeming to press want and heat into every plane of yangyang’s body. he reaches between them and presses firmly on the crotch of yangyang’s jeans, making him detach and let out a breathy moan.

“you wanna bottom, baby? or did you wanna fuck me with this?” hendery squeezes his dick demonstratively, and yangyang arches over him, fingers digging into the bedsheets.

“mm,” he says, while his neurons stop pinballing pleasure around his brain.

“aw, he’s so sensitive already…” hendery’s eyes are dark as ever, unknowable and hungry as bottom of the ocean. he’s smiling though, watching yangyang with coy interest.

“i — i’ll, i mean, if you have — i can—”

“spread me out and fuck me senseless? thank god,” he interrupts, impatiently batting yangyang aside to reach over to his bedside stand, yanking the drawer open and clattering around.

“i mean, don’t get me wrong, i’d fuck you any day of the week, but i’m just _really_ in the mood to get dicked down — you get it, right?”

“um, sure! i’m… happy to help,” yangyang says, sounding dorky even to himself. he bites his lip, suddenly aware of his lack of clothing. he shuffles up onto his knees, awkwardly looping an arm around his waist.

hendery twists back into his line of sight, holding a bottle of lube (pink — yangyang thinks it might be strawberry scented) and a couple of condoms.

“so i have a few different kinds, but these are my go-to, so take your pick,” he says, tossing the two foil packages lightly onto a throw pillow to the side. he holds the lube, actually looking sheepish which yangyang finds both unbearably cute and also confusing, because he’s hardly seen hendery look anything but hot and confident since they met.

“and this is the only kind i have… sorry if it’s, like, weird… but it’s not like you’re rimming me — unless you want to, that door is always open — so deal with it, i guess,” he shrugs, handing the bottle over.

yangyang takes it with a small “ok!” and hendery begins removing his clothes, first the pink shirt, exposing a pale and lean torso, then shoving his pants and underwear off in one go.

he lays back, fairy lights on the headboard making him pink pink pink, and yangyang wets his lips, just breathing for a second, taking in the fact that he’s about to fuck huang hendery in his stupid eboy bedroom.

“ready? you too, babe,” hendery says, a little breathless, lightly slapping yangyang’s hip in a _giddy-up_ kind of way.

yangyang nods, dropping the lube to shuck off his own pants. his hands stutter over the waistband of his underwear, and he blushes. it’s not that he’s insecure, but… looking at hendery, hard and waiting, watching him, yangyang can’t help but feel severely underqualified for this.

the mattress squeaks and a warm hand lands on yangyang’s jaw.

“hey,” hendery says, mouth set in a line, expression sincere.

“i really like you. and i want you. and i’m checking in now. you ok?”

yangyang nods, “yeah, sorry, i just… know you’ve been with more people… than me. not that that’s bad!! of course! but i’m just… yeah, being stupid — sorry.”

he moves to pull off the boxer-briefs but hendery catches his hand.

“that’s not stupid. if you think you’re gonna disappoint me, you’re not. even if we stopped now, this would still be the most fulfilling sexual experience i’ve had in like, months,” he laughs, and yangyang cracks a smile too.

“ok. i don’t want to stop, though.”

he meets hendery’s gaze, steady. hendery grins and says,

“that’s perfect, ‘cause i don’t want to either.”

off comes the underwear, and hendery groans,

“oh my god, you were hesitating when you have _that_ dick?? i hate you.”

yangyang huffs a laugh, moving closer and grabbing the lube again.

hendery parts his legs, hooking his ankles on yangyang’s hips, biting his lip.

“just start a little slow, ok? i haven’t done myself in a while.”

yangyang blinks, the image of hendery on his knees, fucking himself on his own fingers making his dick twitch. he shakes his head, uncapping the lube and squeezing some onto two fingers, warming it between them and his thumb.

“i, uh, wanted to tell you that you’re really hot. like, _really_ hot,” he says in the meantime.

hendery hums, “hotter in person, huh?”

“oh my god — _yes.”_

hendery grins, delighted, only to inhale sharply when yangyang presses two fingers to the soft skin just above his asshole.

“sorry, is it cold? i tried to—”

“no, no, it’s good, it’s just,” hendery exhales slowly.

“i’m really turned on, sorry.”

yangyang feels his face burning, though he can’t remember a time when it wasn’t.

“that’s good though, right?” and he presses his fingers down, rolling them over the tight bloom of flesh and applying gentle but steady pressure.

“yes, yeah. that’s good,” hendery shudders underneath him.

when yangyang presses more firmly and the muscle gives way, one of hendery’s hands flies up to grip his forearm. he pauses.

“no — god, don’t stop, i’m just,” and then he lets out this crazy high-pitched whining breathing sound, which is so hot yangyang’s glad for the occupation of his hands so he can’t just grab his own dick immediately.

watching hendery’s face all the while, he gets his two forefingers more comfortable in the tight heat, wiggling them deeper inside. hendery’s ankles dig into his hip bones. yangyang experimentally moves his hand, slipping his fingers back and then forward again, nearly down to the knuckle.

“ah, fuck,” hendery bites out, nails digging into his arm.

“good?” yangyang asks.

“mm, yeah, more lube though.”

another two dollops of strawberry scented gel and one more finger later, yangyang thinks he’s got hendery’s nonverbals down; gripping at his arm means _good, but maybe slow down,_ nails in his arm mean _you’re doing something wrong,_ and squeezing with his legs means _more._ that one usually comes with some more dolphin-squeaks and arching of the back.

yangyang fucks his fingers into hendery who is starting to move his hips in return, canting upwards, muscles in his thighs flexing. he looks fucking ethereal like this, not to mention his face; head pushing back into the pillow, hair everywhere, lips kiss-bloomed and eyebrows furrowed in pleasure.

yangyang gives it another minute or so before he gives in and sits back on his knees to stroke himself, relieving some of the pressure in his groin.

“whu, where’d you go?” hendery asks blearily, propping an elbow underneath himself to look at yangyang with accusatory half-lidded eyes.

“sorry — i was, i needed—” yangyang cuts himself off with a breathy moan, and hendery says, “fuck.” he reaches a hand out for yangyang, who scoots closer, and bats his hand aside to replace it with his own. yangyang shudders as hendery’s well-knuckled fingers wrap around his dick.

“you’re really hot for it, huh? hot all over just for me?” yangyang nods fervently, letting his eyes flutter shut as hendery squeezes on the upstroke.

“well the good news is you can fuck me now,” and it’s yangyang’s turn to whine in confusion as hendery settles back into the pillows, knees falling open impossibly flat to the mattress. he grins impishly.

yangyang wets his lips, muttering a “right,” and grabs for one of the condoms without looking at them. the package is green, and says _trojan flex_ on it. he rips it open with his pinky (the only non-slippery finger on his right hand) and other hand, quickly rolling the slick latex on.

placing his dry hand on hendery’s thigh, he takes his cock in hand again, shuffling even closer on his knees before falling forward, leaning on his opposite elbow and suddenly very close to hendery. he focuses on guiding his dick for the moment, though, and he hears hendery take a breath and hold it.

the tightness is _impossible._ it’s _stupid._ yangyang moans shakily and hendery does another of his slow, whiny exhales.

slowly, slowly, yangyang pushes in, and his thighs shake as the muscles contract around him, adjusting. finally he bottoms out, and they’re both panting, hendery now maintaining a vice-like grip on his shoulder.

“god, you’re hot, you’re so fucking hot, this is exactly what i wanted, fuck,” hendery babbles, and yangyang has to take a second, just a second of not looking at his hot fucking body, at his wet fucking mouth, at his crazy sexy eyes. the _i like cock_ sign really does not offer him a reprieve.

after a check-in with hendery, he starts moving. he’s almost immediately regretting not going out for track this semester, because he can feel his hip-flexers being destroyed, but honestly? it’s worth it. hendery lets him fuck for a second, find his rhythm and shit, before he starts to move his hips in these crazy tight little circles, and _wow_ yangyang is not going to last long.

regardless, he’s determined to give hendery a good time, so he grits his teeth and, well, fucks him. hendery kind of starts bouncing into the mattress — just a little, and he has to grab the headboard so his actual head doesn’t knock into it with each thrust, bicep flexing, which is also the hottest thing yangyang’s ever seen.

one of his worse habits starts to crop up once he’s getting close, stomach tightening and breath coming faster, which is his terrible habit of rambling.

at first it’s just his name and groans and pants, but hendery’s legs are wrapped around his waist and he’s gripping the headboard with white knuckles and he’s looking at yangyang so _wanting_ — and yangyang can’t take it, he’s losing it.

“ah, ah, hendery, you’re so hot like you told me _i’m_ hot but _you’re_ the one that’s so hot and now i’m actually fucking you and — fuck, it feels so good,”

hendery blinks, but smiles slyly.

“really, baby? didn’t know you had all that to say. what else?”

“the, the way you kept looking at me all day made me so like, horny and stuff but also no one ever looks at me like that, like _interested,_ and it was you and i — i just, fuck, fuck,” he says, words fast and probably almost incomprehensible with the way he’s breathing.

hendery just wraps his legs tighter around him and moans, saying, “but you _are_ interesting, i’m _interested,_ babe, in everything, but right now? yangyang, i wanna see your o-face.”

and yangyang honestly hates it in porn when someone says something like that and the other person, like, immediately actually cums, but color him a fucking fool because boy does he _immediately_ cum.

his hips snap forward and his thighs tense and his fingers grip the sheets and he’s _whining,_ moaning, talking more nonsense, all while his body is wrapped in tight ropes of pleasure, nearly burning him from the inside out with intensity.

when he opens his eyes again hendery’s got a hand around his own dick, eyes shut tight and fucking himself down on yangyang’s weakening hard-on. it’s yangyang’s turn to bat a hand away in favor of his own, though, and hendery brings that hand up to join the other on the headboard, and he’s moaning saying, “thank you, oh my god, fast, fast, i _need_ it, baby,” and yangyang’s never been one to have trouble with instructions.

he jerks hendery off in the manner requested, while giving admittedly weak (overstimulation, ow, ooh) thrusts of his hips, but it must be enough because within another minute hendery is spasming and gripping the headboard for dear life as he spills onto yangyang’s hand and his own stomach.

he’s surprisingly quiet, and only when a rush of air bursts out of him when he settles down does yangyang realize hendery had held his breath during orgasm. _fuck._

“fuck,” hendery says, evidently in agreement.

they collapse next to each other, yangyang rolling off the condom and tying it off (gross, definitely the worst part of sex, 0/10) and tosses it into the trash beside hendery’s bed.

hendery looks completely fucked-out, still breathing heavily with a hand on his chest, legs completely limp.

“see? how did i know you could fuck from the moment i saw you? sitting in that dorm room all wide-eyed, just… just looking at me. i _knew_ it.”  
yangyang huffs and buries his face in a pillow, only emerging when he feels his dick regain some hp.

"hey, i can go again if you want?"

hendery blinks open his eyes, looking over at him with disbelief.

"are you serious?" yangyang nods.

"oh my _god_ my taste in guys is impeccable," and he's rolling on top of him, legs straddling his waist. they kiss with fervor, though this time it's a little more sensual, both of them taking the time they need to get really worked up again, just touching, kissing, biting.

a few minutes into it hendery shimmies down his body, until he's face to face with yangyang's dick (well, face to cock? whatever).

"mind if i blow you? i need some more time but i'll get you ready, babe."

yangyang groans and nods his agreement, and is suddenly experiencing the need to grip the headboard first-hand as hendery's mouth closes around him.

all he can really do is audibly exhale, eyes closing involuntarily. hendery rubs tight circles into the inside of his thigh, the other hand pressing down on his knee so his legs stay open. it's hot, of course, but also very intense; yangyang's spent the night trying to avoid hendery's undressing gaze, and now here he lies, spread out, quite literally undressed.

when he starts rocking hips gently into hendery's mouth, the latter pulls off, leaving him high and dry for a moment until he hears the squeaky _click_ of the lube being uncapped, sweet scent of synthetic strawberries hitting him the next moment.

"just — hah — give me a second, don't move i'm gonna sit on your dick." hendery's hoarse voice floats up to him, dreamlike, because yangyang is much more engaged in watching as he reaches under himself, fingers slick and dripping with lube. hendery is half-hard, but that situation rapidly changes as he moves his hand, other palm on yangyang's chest for support, thighs shaking a bit. he sighs, moving himself up and down very slightly before he readjusts his knees and opens his eyes, meeting yangyang's eyes.

"get the condom, babe."

fuck, right. yangyang reaches blindly and luckily his hand lands on smooth foil almost immediately; this one is a pink package with white flower designs. he opens it and rolls it on in record time, and hendery watches impatiently, surely resisting the urge to continue fucking himself down on his fingers.

"ok, ready?" 

yangyang's sure he's making an idiotic, dumbstruck expression, but he nods vigorously, hands coming up to grip hendery's waist. the fingers come out with a sound that really would be gross under other circumstances, but the face hendery makes as he concentrates on lining himself up pretty much cancels it out. his brows are furrowed, lower lip trapped between his teeth, cheeks shining with sweat.

yangyang feels him against the tip of his dick the next moment, and he does his very best not to squirm and mess up hendery's hard work. he pushes his head into the pillow beneath him.

hendery takes a few short little breaths, before taking a big one, holding it momentarily, and then letting it all out as he fully seats himself.

it's just as unbearably _good_ as it had been the first time, and yangyang makes some kind of really guttural noise, muscles twitching and alight with pleasure.

"ohhh my god, ok, that's good holy fuck — are you good? feels good?" hendery pants out, both hands now on yangyang's chest, smearing lube over one his nipples and making him shiver.

"so extremely good i can't even tell you, hen," yangyang replies, noticing hendery tense up a little at the nickname. oops — it had just slipped out.

"then why don't you go ahead and hit it again, _yang?_ "

fuck. yangyang makes a mental note not to play these nickname games in future, because it will probably kill him. then he grips hendery's hips more firmly, and thrusts upwards.

hendery moans, and from there it goes much the same way it had before, though with a bit more teamwork; they weigh about the same and yangyang can't exactly lift him up and drop him on his dick twice a second. so hendery lifts, yangyang hefts, and they get a respectable thing going.

from here, hendery is haloed by the pink lights, black hair shining, mouth half-open in drawn-out moans. yangyang feels perfect. is that possible? to feel perfect?

"got something to say, baby? tell me, tell me everything."

yangyang complies, though hendery could tell him to do just about anything right now and he'd comply.

before long heat curls in his belly again, and he grows hypersensitive; the sheets sticking to his skin with sweat, the hot pressure around his cock, hendery's abdominal muscles moving under his hands, the pink light veiling the room, hendery's high-pitched, gasping breaths — it's all so _much_.

"i'm — i'm gonna, fuck —"

"me too, me too," hendery pants from above.

yangyang groans and quickens the pace, while hendery takes his cock in hand and jerks himself in short, quick motions.

he cums first this time, breath coming quicker and quicker until he gasps in an inhale and holds it, eyes shut tight, knees threatening to bruise against yangyang's hips where they sink into the mattress, and he shakes as he spills over his hand, onto yangyang's chest. his nails dig into his ribcage as he shudders, jerking forward again and again.

he lets out his breath in a satisfied, whining rush, eyes opening to reveal him, dazed and glassy, swaying a bit on top of yangyang.

"come on, yang, feels so good, right? me, all hot on top of you? go for it, _fuck_ me, lemme see that pretty cum-face again, huh? let me see you lose it underneath me."

yangyang half-sobs at this, fucking up into hendery even faster, and his stomach tightens, and tightens, and he gets hotter, and _hotter,_ and then he's cumming, _again_. his hips stutter and push up once more, head thrown back, banging into the cool wood of the headboard, muscles straining in ecstasy.

"fuuuuck, _babe,_ " hendery says, still sounding a bit hoarse. yangyang collapses back into the bed with a huff, and hendery promptly rolls off him.

"i'm gonna be so fucking sore. and yuta wants to go to that amusement park tomorrow, _ugh._ "

"hh," yangyang says, completely brainless.

hendery giggles and snuggles up next to him.

"aw babe, sorry, i've had a little more time than you."

yangyang manages to lift his arm so hendery can scoot even closer, and says, "mm."

he doesn't know how long they lay there, but eventually the bed creaks and yangyang registers hendery moving, sitting up.

“i’m just gonna rinse off, you want?”

yangyang does want.

  


hendery uses a washcloth to wipe them down under a warm stream of water.

“you should talk more, you know, i feel like that was the most you said to me all night,” he says, referring to yangyang’s embarrassing outbursts in the throes of passion; the latter bites his lip and casts his eyes downward, to the water hitting the tile at their feet.

a water-warm hand cups his cheek, and hendery’s frowning.

“hey, i don’t mean it in a bad way. don’t get all shy on me again. i liked it.”

water beads on his face and at the ends of his dark hair, and he’s looking at yangyang like he did at dinner; deductively, imploringly.

something yangyang has spent the night being intimidated by, only to see it for what it truly is in the damp heat of the shower, close enough to feel his breath.

it’s hendery’s way of saying, _can i know you? will you tell me more?_

and under that gaze, yangyang, rather than hiding, or shying away, only feels the urge to oblige.

 

 **[henDUHry] Tweeted:**  
哎呀, umleitung。  
_http://twitter.com/gothiquenanhai99/status/8237923…_

 **@bboyji Replied:**  
german?? wtf lol

 **@qinhao_ Replied:**  
it means detour? multilingual king i guess

 **@mmissmee Replied:**  
who is the guy in the pic owo

 **@boomingsystemup Replied:**  
"oops, took a detour" why does this sound so sus.. 

**@yhboyzzstan Replied:**  
i think i found him ?? _@dragonb00ts_?  
** >@mmissmee Replied:**  
omgg he’s so cute. another model?  
** >@yhboyzzstan Replied:**  
don’t think so - looks like he’s in college. hometown friend, apparently, like the datong from yesterday.

 **yuta who loves sicheng @nakamewtwo Tweeted:**  
lmaoooooo the fact that i’m known as an eboy’s datong friend now. sad :( get that dick tho hen  


**❤ [henDUHry] liked this Tweet!**

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! lmk what you thought!! fav parts !! tell me i suck ! i crave comment Juice...
> 
> u can follow me @rouxberrv on twt for inside looks and fic updates!


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